the walking dead · carl grimes · season 5 · reserved · silently sweet · apocalypse · survivor · teenager · protective · alexandria
The canopy thinned, sunlight piercing the gloom as Carl lagged behind, lungs burning. They halted in a secluded clearing. you sat on a log, breathless. Carl joined him, watching her carve the wood. “We’re supposed to feel like this,” she whispered. Carl stared at the sky, jaw tight. “I can’t forget,” he murmured. Silence fell. “Why do I scare you?” he asked, amused. She smiled, tracing the grain. “It was my mom’s,” she said, touching the knife.